


Save Me, Save Me, Save Me

by MollyMaryMarie



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Falling In Love, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Idiots in Love, Mutual Pining, Wolfstar AU, wolfstar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-12
Updated: 2020-01-12
Packaged: 2021-02-25 07:54:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22232659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MollyMaryMarie/pseuds/MollyMaryMarie
Summary: Remus overhears a conversation between James and Sirius about Sirius being in love and discovers rather abruptly that he doesn't like the idea of Sirius being in love with anyone who isn't him. THEN WHY IS HE HELPING SIRIUS COOK THIS WOMAN DINNER??Probably so that, while chopping vegetables in the kitchen, he and Sirius can perform an emotional duet, serenading each other to Phil Collin's "A Groovy Kind of Love." AND THEN GET ALL WEIRD ABOUT IT AFTERWARD.Because they're idiots.
Relationships: Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 24
Kudos: 323





	Save Me, Save Me, Save Me

**_ Remus  _ **

There was a feeling there. Something that tugged at his heart when he heard Sirius speaking to James in little louder than a whisper, about someone else. Remus wasn’t sure he could name this feeling, wasn’t sure he _wanted_ to name it. But there was something there, and the feeling it left behind was not at all pleasant.

It was too warm in the house. Baby Harry had been particularly fussy, so Lily and Remus had taken a walk around the neighborhood, enjoying the chilled Autumn air, pointing out to Harry the different colors of the leaves. Harry had fallen asleep in his stroller, so they had crept back inside, overly quietly. That was when Remus had found James and Sirius in the kitchen.

“You’re sure?” James asked in a hushed voice, and Remus watched as Sirius nodded, rather solemnly, his typical mischievous grin turned down into a tight clench of his jaw.

“I’m sure,” Sirius said, half under his breath. “Because it _hurts_ , Prongs.” As he spoke, he gripped the chest of his T-shirt, buried underneath his signature leather jacket. “It hurts more than anything. All it takes is a look in my direction and I feel like I might crumble apart.”

“But _love_ , Sirius? How can you be sure? You’ve never been in love before.” James clarified, his voice borderline between hopeful and miserable. It was that phrase that sparked concern in Remus’ chest – _that_ feeling, he knew. Concern and fear and panic. Those feelings were practically old friends. Old, uninvited friends who constantly overstayed their welcome.

From around the corner, Remus watched Sirius with dedication as Sirius let out a very long, very slow breath, deep from within his chest, evidence of that hurt he’d mentioned.

“Weren’t you sure with Lily?” Sirius asked, raising only his silver eyes to look into James’, and Remus found himself a little unsettled by the expression within them. “Didn’t you know the _moment_ it happened? The _moment_ you realized you were in love with her?” The mercury in his eyes swirled, the way it did when Remus managed to catch his eye from across the room.

James let out a held breath. “Yeah. Yeah, I knew.” Together, they stood in silence for a time, with Sirius’ eyes on the floor, and James’ eyes on Sirius.

“Were you this miserable?” Sirius said with a sardonic laugh, a sound that sent an uncomfortable shiver down Remus’ spine. Sirius’ voice wasn’t meant to sound so hollow.

“You know I was,” James said, with a reassuring squeeze to Sirius’ shoulder. “But this is … it’s a little different, Pads. Do you think there’s a chance that –” Sirius cut him off before Remus could hear him say anything else, leaving Remus to realize what he had been waiting to hear.

“No,” Sirius said bluntly. “That much I’m sure of.”

“How can you be sure?” James argued again. “All the time that the two of you –”

“Friends, James,” Sirius interrupted. “All the time that the two of us spend together, we spend together as friends. Nothing more. Trust me, I’ve been paying _critical_ attention.”

“Come _on._ All the touching? And the _flirting_?” James said with a crooked smirk. “There has to be _something_ there.” An irritated breath slipped through Sirius’ teeth.

“It’s only flirting on my end,” Sirius said, grinding his teeth. “Anything I get in response is only that. A response. And a joke.” A hard swallow traveled slow down the expansive length of Sirius’ throat and Remus had to wonder why he watched the motion so dedicatedly.

“I wouldn’t discredit it, Sirius,” James said, clicking his tongue. “You flirt with me, too, and you don’t see me flirting back. Not like … _that_.” A furrow went into Remus’ brow as he went through a very short list in his mind – who could Sirius be in love with that _James_ knew, but Remus didn’t? Maybe it _was_ a girl that Remus knew, but Sirius certainly didn’t spend time with them together. Even knowing that, Remus still couldn’t come up with a name.

“It’s _pretend_ ,” Sirius emphasized with heartbreak in his voice. “I can tell.”

“Damn,” James breathed out. “It’s that bad, huh?” With a shaking breath, Sirius pulled his face into his hands, and James was quick to pull Sirius against his chest.

“I will never love anyone else like this, James.” Not able to stand another moment of watching Sirius this distraught over someone else, someone he was apparently in love with, Remus stepped into the kitchen, where James and Sirius were still embracing.

“Sirius Black, in love?” he said, adding a sarcastic lilt to his voice to cover up the wavering in his throat that he wasn’t sure he could explain. It was hard for him to see Sirius so broken.

Immediately, Sirius pulled away from James and turned away from Remus in one, fluid motion, and Remus tried to ignore the pain in his heart about Sirius hiding this from him. He also tried to ignore the way Sirius scrubbed at his face, to destroy evidence of tears on his cheeks.

“Remus,” James said in surprise, eyes wide. “We didn’t know you and Lily were back.”

“Apparently,” Remus replied, working hard to keep the betrayal out of his voice. It was bad enough that Sirius was in love with someone, bad enough that he had kept it from Remus, bad enough that Remus had to find out by accident. Worse still was having to listen how Sirius had been suffering over it and hadn’t breathed a word of it to him. Weren’t they _friends_?

“Remus, I was going to tell you,” Sirius said, his eyes red and his cheeks flushed. “I just … I didn’t know how.” For a moment, he reached out, as if to take Remus by the hands, but he retracted his grasp. There was disappointment in Remus’ chest, and he rationalized it by telling himself it was disappointment in Sirius keeping secrets from him.

“So, who is she?” Remus asked and Sirius went still, blinking at him.

“Who is she?” James repeated, confusion in his tone. 

“My next-door neighbor,” Sirius blurted out, casting a glance in James’ direction that Remus couldn’t interpret the meaning of. “Marlene McKinnon.” As Remus looked over to James, he watched a wince cross over James’ expression as his eyes went straight to the floor.

“Tell me about her,” Remus prodded, ignoring the ache in his ribs. Again, Sirius froze.

“I … can’t,” he said slowly, but he recovered quickly. “Maybe another time. I’m supposed to cook dinner for her tonight, so I’d better be going. Lots to do.”

Remus let out a loud laugh. “Sirius Black, you couldn’t cook dinner if your life depended on it,” he said, taking Sirius by the arm and waving to James. “You’ll need my help.”

“No, Remus, I …” Sirius tried to argue as Remus practically dragged him out of the kitchen, with James following closely. “I’m meant to do it myself. Alone. You can’t –”

“She’ll never know,” Remus assured him. “I’m not taking no for an answer.” After they walked out the front door, and Sirius shared a worried glance with James, he softened to Remus’ arm linked into his. For some reason, Remus didn’t feel the need to let go.

It had just begun to snow when they reached Sirius’ house. Rather, it was the house that Sirius’ parents left him when they died – a house that had been more a prison to Sirius than a childhood home. Because of that, Sirius spent more time at James and Lily’s house than his own.

That was never more apparent to Remus than when they walked through the front door of Sirius’ house. It had been months since Remus had been there – more often than not, they all met at James and Lily’s. It was no different then than it had been months before. Not a knick-knack out of place, dust cascading down from the ceiling beams, curtains drawn and closed.

“ _Sirius_ ,” Remus breathed out, instinctively reaching out to hold Sirius by the shoulder, letting his thumb rub along the spine of Sirius’ shoulder blade. “I didn’t know.”

“Don’t think about it, Moony,” Sirius waved the thought away, pulling Remus through the threshold and closing the door behind him. “I practically live with James and Lily anyway.”

“Why don’t you come live with _me_?” Remus offered suddenly, surprising even himself.

“That would put Pete in quite a bind, wouldn’t it?” Sirius laughed, turning away as Remus found his gaze traveling across Sirius’ cheeks, flushed from the cold.

“Pete has all but moved out,” Remus admitted with a shrug. “He practically lives at his girlfriend’s house. My flat feels rather empty lately.” Without thinking, Remus took Sirius by the arm and pulled him back. Not expecting the sudden shift in his balance, Sirius lost his footing and went tumbling into Remus’ chest, one of his hands slipping along Remus’ waist.

At first, everything went quite still. Sirius didn’t pull away. For some reason, Remus couldn’t convince himself to, either. Instead, he found himself entrapped by the chaotic way Sirius’ eyes cast across his face, the kinetic swirl of the silver within them, the way his lips parted with an expectant space that should have been filled with the warmth of foreign breath.

“Moony,” he said softly, blinking slowly under hooded lids. But just as suddenly, his demeanor changed. His face flushed violent and red, spreading all the way down his throat as he took a step backward, overcompensating with laughter. “You can’t tug on me like that, I’m a lightweight. Though I can’t blame you for wanting to put your hands on me, honestly.”

“Next time, I’ll be sure to put my hands on you a little more tenderly,” Remus flirted back, as he always did with Sirius. Strange how he didn’t seem to flirt with literally _anyone_ else.

Stranger still was the way he had reacted to Sirius being in his arms. It certainly wasn’t the first time he’d been in that position with Sirius. He could name a dozen instances just within the last month – falling asleep with Sirius on his chest on James’ couch while they were watching The Princess Bride, slow-dancing to _A_ _Groovy Kind of Love_ by Phil Collins in Remus’ living room, braiding Sirius’ long, dark hair as he sat between Remus’ legs on the floor of Sirius’ bedroom.

As he watched Sirius walk away, and his eyes naturally and habitually rolled down from the back of Sirius’ neck to the soles of his leather boots, the realization struck into his heart like thunder. How he had to stifle the overwhelming urge to press his lips to the back of Sirius’ neck as he had been braiding his hair. How he had missed the last half of The Princess Bride because he had been focused on the way Sirius’ warm breath felt puffing out softly against his chest. How he couldn’t hear that Phil Collins song without smiling like an idiot in love.

Because he _was_ in love. With _Sirius_. He had been all this time.

“Oh, **shit** ,” he said out loud. A little too out loud. From where Sirius was throwing wood into the fireplace, he looked up, hair falling down into his mercury eyes.

“What happened, Moony?” And Remus didn’t know how he hadn’t figured this thing out much earlier, because the way Sirius was looking at him, though totally innocuous and innocent, had Remus thinking very descriptive thoughts that were certainly _not_.

“Nothing, it’s fine, I’m fine,” Remus rambled, quite incoherently. “I’m going to … clean a bit. Over here,” he said, his voice drawling as he tried to steady his unexpectedly rapid breathing.

Grabbing a cloth, he started on a mirror, covered in a thick film of dust. As he swiped a clean line through the dirt, Sirius reappeared in the reflection, kneeling in the ash underneath the mantle as he struck a match to light the flame in the hearth.

How did he let this happen? He couldn’t be in love, not with Sirius. They’d grown up together, gone to school together. He’d been there for the countless number of Sirius’ girlfriends in secondary school (which is now so apparent why he never liked any of them). And now Sirius was in love with someone else – this Marlene person. How did Remus let this _happen_?

No longer paying attention to the dust at hand, Remus watched in the reflection as Sirius curved deep to coax the flame, blowing softly on the embers to stoke their heat. He watched as Sirius whispered encouragement to the little sputter of a fire, a reassuring smile on his lips as he patiently waited for the flame to light. He watched the sliver of skin at Sirius’ waist grow into a full, glorious view as Sirius’ jacket rose up his slender hips.

Clenching his eyes tight, Remus let his head rest against the mirror. Just a moment before, when Sirius had been in his arms, Remus had nearly craned down to kiss him. Just then, he really wished he had. Now it was all he could think about.

“Look, Moony!” Sirius called from across the room. As Remus turned, he saw a delicate flame licking from the dark bricks, entirely outshined by the brilliance of Sirius’ smile.

“Well done, Pads,” Remus smiled back, and he started to turn again to the mirror, but Sirius raced across the antique rug to hold Remus by the elbow.

“Come warm up with me,” he said, his lips a little close to Remus’ ear. This time, the blush spread through Remus’ skin – he could feel it all the way in his chest.

“I’m a little too warm as it is,” he mumbled under his breath, but he let Sirius take him over to the fireplace, nonetheless. Maybe it was because he liked the feeling of Sirius’ fingers clenched tightly around his arm. Maybe he liked the way Sirius’ pale skin glowed in the warm, orange firelight. Maybe he liked the way Sirius snuggled into him to get warm.

“Let’s order take-away and make whiskey-spiked cocoa,” Sirius said with a slight laugh as he pressed his scruffy cheek down against Remus’ shoulder. “I’ve still got some of those cinnamon marshmallows you like.” He almost accepted, until he remembered why he couldn’t.

“What about Marlene?” he asked, his throat tight with her name.

“Who?” Sirius said at first, and Remus almost let him forget. “Oh.” His voice seemed to fall, and Remus chalked it up to how miserable he was over her. “I should cancel.”

“You can’t cancel now, Pads,” Remus said, steeling himself to not ruin this evening for Sirius, not when he was so mad for this girl. He pulled away from Sirius, despite how everything within him begged him to stay. “Come on, we’d better get started on dinner.”

Reluctantly, Remus wandered into the kitchen and opened the fridge, expected to be greeted with bare shelves but surprised by a relatively stocked pantry.

“Remus, I wasn’t even going to cook,” Sirius confessed, leaning on the side of the refrigerator, propping himself up on his elbow. “I was going to order it and _say_ I cooked it.”

“Of course you were,” Remus said with a laugh as he pulled some vegetables from the crisping drawer. “But I’m here now, and I say we’re going to cook.” 

“You’re lucky that Lily sent me home with bags full of groceries last night,” Sirius laughed, leaning his chin on Remus’ shoulder as Remus pulled a knife from the block on the counter.

He was far too much enjoying the warmth of Sirius against his back, the taste of Sirius’ breath swirling around to his lips, so he spoke. “Are you going to help me, or just watch?”

With a huff, Sirius sided up next to Remus, pulling some carrots out of Remus’ hands and laying them out on the cutting board that Remus had place in front of him.

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” Sirius grumbled, glancing over at Remus out of the corner of his eye. With a hard swallow, Remus choked back the flirtatious reply on his tongue.

“I’d better make myself scarce before Marlene arrives and hears you talking to me like that,” Remus said with a click of his tongue, ignoring the way Sirius looked over in response.

“Maybe you should stay,” Sirius said, his voice suddenly gone soft and marshy.

“And watch you snogging someo– …” he caught himself saying ‘ _someone else’_ and corrected quickly, “some girl?” He snorted a derisive laugh. “No thank you.”

“I really doubt that’s going to happen,” Sirius said, his tone of voice unchanged, and Remus was baffled at this level of self-doubt coming from Sirius, the most confident person in any room he’d ever been in. With a breath, Remus assured him, albeit unwillingly.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Sirius,” he said, using a quiet laugh to cover the wavering in his voice. “Just look at you. Any woman would be daft to turn you down.”

A short breath slipped through Sirius’ lips, his hands stilled with his knife poised to slice the carrot underneath it. “See, that’s just it, Moony. That’s not what I … I don’t …” He paused, his head hanging just slightly forward. “Never mind.” He went back to chopping.

A rather awkward silence settled over them. Remus couldn’t remember if they had ever had silence between them, especially one as charged as this. Not to mention the misery radiating from Sirius. Remus had to do something to make this better. He had to fix it.

“When I’m feeling blue,” Remus began to sing under his breath. “All I have to do …” He trailed off, praying that Sirius would pick up where he left off. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched a smile crack its way through the clenching of Sirius’ teeth.

“Is take a look at you,” Sirius sang in reply, glancing up at Remus. The shine in his cinder eyes began to bloom until it took over his whole face. “Then I’m not so blue.”

“When you’re close to me,” Remus hummed, continuing to chop the herbs underneath his knife in time to the rhythm of the song, and Sirius coordinated to match it. Sirius joined in again, a step higher than Remus’ melody, and they sang in harmony.

“I can feel your heartbeat, I can hear you breathing near my ear,” they sang together in perfect unison, the cadence of the slice of their knives against the wood cutting boards beneath them casting a delicate, synchronous tempo behind their voices. Sirius stopped singing for a moment, to let Remus continue on his own, letting his voice soften to a near whisper.

“Wouldn’t you agree?” he sang, looking over at Sirius to see that Sirius was already looking back at him, the color of his eyes so full that it nearly spilled over into wide pupils.

“Baby, you and me,” Sirius continued, the movement of his hand slowing and the strength of his voice faltering as he let the knife clatter to the board underneath it.

“Got a groovy kind of love,” Remus finished in spoken word, his eyes scattering hungrily over the sharp features of Sirius’ aristocratic face, softened by the dark scruff on his cheeks.

For a long time, the two of them stood in silence, watching the other, waiting for some miniscule sign of approval, some long-awaited clash of motion. Lost to the lure of Sirius’ gaze, to the pull of wanting Sirius’ lips to his own, to the ache of wanting to hold Sirius in his arms, Remus lifted his hand. His fingers brushed lightly underneath the curve of Sirius’ jaw.

It took the startled widening of Sirius’ eyes to remind Remus where exactly he was, the context of where he was. He was supposed to be helping Sirius cook dinner for the woman he was in love with. Instead, he was scaring Sirius away from ever being his best friend again.

“See, this is all it would take with Marlene,” Remus said, pulling away with a jerk, getting back to the literal task at hand, his fingers trembling on the handle of the knife. “She’ll be yours by the end of the night if you sing to her.” A sharp breath fell from Sirius’ lips as he stepped back.

“Right,” he said, his voice sounding tight and distant. “Moony, I’ll … I’ll be right back,” he stammered, holding his hands up. “Keep … doing what you’re doing.”

“I’ve got it,” Remus said, trying to keep the despondence from his tone as Sirius retreated in what Remus hoped was not terror. He continued on, chopping the herbs, dicing and sautéing an onion, peeling potatoes. And Sirius still hadn’t come back. He still hadn’t reappeared by the time Remus had thrown the vegetables and chicken in a pan to roast in the oven.

It was the sound of the piano that drew Remus’ attention. While he knew Sirius played beautifully (after all the lessons his parents had forced him to take throughout his childhood), he hadn’t heard Sirius play in ages. With the chicken roasting in the oven, Remus followed the sound into the sitting room, where Sirius was tucked into a corner, the grand piano before him.

“Come sit by me, Moony,” he said, and Remus let out a sigh of relief that Sirius wasn’t suddenly repulsed by his behavior, that Sirius still wanted him close. So, Remus obeyed and drew his lanky limbs into the corner, folding himself underneath the keys, on the bench next to Sirius.

“The chicken is roasting. You have plenty of time to play me something,” Remus said, struggling against the urge to place his head on Sirius’ shoulder.

“Any requests?” Sirius asked, his fingers twiddling out a bright melody.

“Let’s avoid _Groovy Kind of Love_ ,” Remus said with a rather pathetic laugh, hoping that Sirius would hear the apology buried within it. _I’m sorry I got carried away, I’m sorry you’re so wonderful that I couldn’t help but want to kiss you, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, it won’t happen again._

Luckily, Sirius laughed. “Agreed.” Without another thought, Sirius went straight into another tune, one with a somber atmosphere that sent an immediate ache into Remus’ heart.

“It started off so well,” Sirius sang, muted and hollow. “They said we made a perfect pair.” He bent deeply into the keys, breathing life into them.

A painful wince crossed Remus’ features as he lowered his head. This song was so much worse. A gutting reminder of the boy he loved, in love with someone else.

“I clothed myself in your glory and your love,” Sirius crooned, his melancholy voice echoing out through the high ceiling rafters. “How I loved you. How I cried.”

It took everything in his bones not to slide his arms around Sirius’ waist, so close and warm, and desperately confess everything into Sirius’ skin to dissipate this misery.

“The years of care and loyalty.” His voice had gotten strained and broken within his tightened throat, choked by thick emotion. “Were nothing but a sham, it seems.” His fingers faltered as he took a breath, finding the strength in his voice to finish the last few, devastating lines. “The years belie, we lived a lie. I love you ‘til I die.” As Sirius breathed, to deliver the chorus of an aching plea, save me, _save me, **save me**_ , Remus knew he couldn’t take more.

“ _Sirius_ ,” he whispered, taking Sirius by the hands with a cacophonous sound erupting from all the wrong keys their hands fell upon. “I can’t do this anymore.”

Sirius swallowed hard, his fingers folding into Remus’ hands as he turned on the bench to face Remus with silver eyes that flashed with the threat of tears. “What do you mean?”

“I mean I can’t keep pretending like …” Remus began, urgency in his voice as his grip tightened onto Sirius’ fingers. His hold spread up Sirius’ forearms. “What I mean is that I –”

Every thought was interrupted by a loud, rapid series of knocks at the front door. The clench of Remus’ jaw was so tight that he could feel it crack underneath the pressure.

“That must be her,” he grimaced, reminded of _why_ he couldn’t tell Sirius the truth as he rose from his place on the piano bench. Strangely, Sirius held onto his hands much too long.

“No, Moony, wait. It’s not what you …” Sirius said, his voice trailing off as Remus opened the door to find Marlene standing on the stoop, “… think.”

“You must be Marlene,” Remus said, as warmly as he could, but it still came out sounding cold and bitter. “Come in. I’m Remus, I’m a friend of Sirius.” He shook her hand.

“Sirius, what –” she began to say, surely confused by Remus’ presence. Sirius interrupted.

“Marlene, you’re a little _early_ ,” Sirius said, rushing to her side to hold her by the arm, while Remus pretended to need to check on the roast chicken. Truthfully, he just couldn’t stand to watch Sirius treat anyone else the way he usually treated _him_.

“Oh, right! I thought you said dinner at six! Silly me!” Marlene giggled in an overly loud, overly cheery voice from the other room. Remus rolled his eyes as hard as he could, getting out every urge so he didn’t do it by accident, before he popped his head back into the living room.

“We’ve got a bit of a wait on the chicken,” Remus said, trying to inflate his flattened voice. “Can I get you a drink, Marlene?” Even her name tasted sour on his tongue.

“A glass of white wine would be lovely, thank you,” she said in her saccharine voice, while Remus pretended to ignore the way she kept batting her eyelashes in Sirius’ direction. As Remus disappeared into the kitchen again, he could hear them speaking in hushed tones. He could only pray that when he returned with the drinks, they weren’t already disrobing.

With a wine glass in one hand and a whiskey tumbler in the other, he hesitated for a moment before going back into a rather silent living room but was ultimately surprised to see Sirius and Marlene sitting on opposite ends of the sofa. Marlene was turned in Sirius’ direction, with one leg crossed over the other, but Sirius’ eyes were on the kitchen.

“Thank you, darling,” Marlene said as Remus handed her the glass, over a pretentious accent that Remus could swear she threw in just to appear more posh than she was. 

“Sirius,” Remus nudged him with the whiskey glass, as Sirius was still turned as far away from Marlene as possible. When Sirius turned, the dissonant expression on his face turned, too.

“You remembered the whiskey stones,” Sirius said, glancing up at Remus with an ever-softening gaze. For a moment, Remus indulged himself in it – in the sharp point of Sirius’ dark, raised eyebrow, in the transition of the silver in his eyes, in the delicate curve at the corner of his pale, pink lips, in the tousled strands of Sirius’ dark hair that never seemed to stay out of his face.

“Of course. I’m the one who gave them to you,” he laughed carefully, weakened in his resolve for a moment, before throwing on a forced smile and retreating back to the kitchen.

“Remus, stay,” Sirius called, catching him by the sleeve. “Please, Moons.”

“I don’t want to intrude on an otherwise romantic evening,” Remus argued, trying to pull away, but Sirius held firm, moving his grip from the sleeve of Remus’ jumper to his wrist.

“I don’t know how to be romantic without you,” Sirius said with a sly grin that made Remus forget that Marlene was present. “Marlene will tell you, I’m shit with romance.”

At being reminded of the other person in the room, Remus grit his teeth and pulled his arm away. At the same time, Marlene pushed over to Sirius’ side of the couch and wrapped herself around his waist like an article of clothing. Remus went tense.

“Not when you know what you want, isn’t that right, love?” she whispered into his ear, so close that it sent a visible shudder into Sirius’ spine. Remus had to look away.

“What I _want_ is to save the affection for when Remus isn’t present,” Sirius said through clenched teeth as he pried Marlene’s hand away from his chest.

“Don’t be shy,” Marlene said, twirling Sirius’ hair around her finger, leaving Remus to clench his fists at his sides and pray for death. “You don’t mind, do you, Moons?”

 _Oh_. That was the absolute last straw. People outside of his Marauders were _not_ allowed to call him Moony, and _only_ Sirius had ever called him Moons. Let Sirius be in love with this girl, if that’s what made him happy, but Remus was going to have no part of it.

“I’ll just go check on the chicken again,” he grumbled angrily.

“Let me,” Sirius said, jumping up and pushing Remus down onto the couch in his place, all quite less than carefully. “Marlene would love to hear embarrassing stories about me, I’m sure.”

As he raced off into the kitchen, leaving Remus to fiddle awkwardly, anxiously tearing at loose threads in his trousers, Marlene scooted over next to him.

“He was right about the embarrassing stories. Tell me everything,” she said emphatically, the tone of her voice much lower and more relaxed than it had been before. If Remus didn’t hate her so much, he would probably actually like her. A little. Maybe.

“Listen,” he said, turning to look at her. For the first time, he saw her, and he saw what Sirius must see in her. She was, objectively, quite attractive with her long, blonde hair and her eyelashes that fluttered effortlessly when she blinked and the ruby red shade of her lips. He had to regather his thoughts as he started to get irritated, imagining the way Sirius must feel about all of those conventionally attractive features. “Sirius really likes you. And he’s my best friend.”

“Is this the ‘ _don’t-hurt-him-or-I-will-kill-you’_ speech? Because that is honestly the most adorable thing I’ve ever heard,” she said. Remus took in a deep breath.

“It _is_ that speech. Sirius means _everything_ to me,” Remus said, trying and failing to tone down the desperation and devotion in his voice. Instantly, Marlene’s shoulders softened.

“Oh. _Remus_ ,” she said, hushed and breathy, her eyebrows furrowing in the center. Just as she reached out to put her hand on Remus’ knee, Sirius returned from the kitchen.

“I leave for two seconds and you sweep her out from under me, Moony,” Sirius said with a laugh as Marlene patted Remus’ knee a few times before pulling it away. “Though, I can’t blame you, Marlene. I mean, look at him.” Marlene didn’t look at him, but Sirius couldn’t stop, it seemed, nor could he stop his tongue. “The laugh lines in the corner of his eyes, the rebellious curls in his wild hair, that one freckle on the bottom of his lip that makes it look pierced.”

“Sirius, stop,” Remus said, a deep, rose color spreading through his face and down his throat and into his fingertips, followed by the heat of the rush of blood.

“Sounds like Remus is the one you should’ve made a date with,” Marlene said, and Remus was wondering why she sounded more amused than irritated.

“He’s exaggerating,” Remus said, scratching the back of his head in an effort to hide the ruthless blushing of his face, which was not lessening in any capacity.

“No, I think Marlene agrees with me,” Sirius nodded, kneeling down in front of Remus as Remus met his gaze. “Don’t you want to just run your fingers through his hair?” His gaze went soft again, as if often did when he looked at Remus. “Don’t you just want to trace up and down his spine with your arms around his waist?” Ever so slightly, Sirius moved in close, kneeling in the space between Remus’ long legs. “Don’t you want to know the feeling of his lips against yours?”

With his heart racing, Remus felt Sirius’ elegant fingers drift up his calf, the side hidden from Marlene, leaving Remus breathless and confused. Quickly, he stood.

“Sirius, can I talk to you in the kitchen?” He stormed off and Sirius followed, but Remus didn’t speak to him at first. He took a moment to pace back and forth, trying to calm down, trying to figure out why Sirius was doing this. In front of Marlene? The girl he claimed to love?

“What the hell was _that_?” Remus practically shouted, trying to keep his voice from carrying into the living room, but likely failing. Sirius’ head fell forward, he began toeing at the kitchen tiles with the tip of his leather boot, fervently avoiding Remus’ gaze.

“I was … I guess I took it too far,” he said, sounding shattered, though Remus couldn’t figure out why. Wasn’t he the one in love with Marlene? Why he was trying to sabotage it?

“You _guess_?” Remus shouted fully. “It’s one thing to treat me like this when it’s just the two of us, or when it’s just the five of us, but in front of _her_? Are you serious?”

An arrogant smirk crossed Sirius’ lips. “I’m always Sirius.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Remus groaned. Sirius straightened his shoulders.

“So, it’s alright when it’s just us, but it’s _different_ when other people are around?” Sirius barked back, letting himself get into Remus’ face. “Are you embarrassed by me?”

“Don’t turn this around on me, you know what I mean,” Remus said, rolling his eyes heavily, without retracting from his position, without letting Sirius think he’d won.

“I _don’t_ know what you mean,” Sirius scoffed. “I _never_ know what you mean. Because _you’re_ the one who indulges me, Remus. You’re the one who lets me touch you more than you let anyone else. You’re the one who lets me fall asleep between your legs.” At that phrasing, a scorching blush tore its way through Remus’ skin – _all_ of Remus’ skin. Every damn inch of it.

“I _let_ you?” Remus shouted. “How is that worse than your _doing_ it?”

“Well, it really depends on your intention, doesn’t it, Remus?” Sirius said, throwing his hands out to his sides. “And I have no fucking idea what that is.”

“ _My_ intention?” Remus asked, feverishly trying to avoid that line of conversation. “What about _your_ intention? When you pretend to fantasize about kissing me in front of the girl you’re supposed to be on a date with?” His voice was started to crack with heartache and strain.

“I don’t have to pretend, Moony,” Sirius said with an irritated laugh, but Remus was too busy making his point to get distracted by the lie Sirius _had_ to have been telling.

“You made me stand there and watch her paw all over you after you pretended to be heartbroken,” Remus growled. “And sang to me about loving someone you could never have.”

“I _am_ in love with someone I can never have!” Sirius shouted.

“Stop lying to me. She is _right_ there, Sirius! And it’s obvious she wants you!”

“I’m not in love with her, you idiot!” Sirius screamed, slamming his palms against Remus’ chest. “I’m in love with _you_!” At his confession, Remus went still, his eyes scattering across Sirius’ face, as Sirius’ eyes began to widen in realization. He pulled his hands away from Remus.

Remus opened his mouth.

**_ Sirius _ **

The moment Remus left with Lily to walk Harry down the street, James dragged Sirius into the kitchen, his hands immediately on his hips. Like an angry parent.

“What is going on with you today?” he demanded with an exasperated huff.

It had all started when Remus had shown up, unannounced, with his pink cheeks tucked into the emerald green scarf that Sirius had gotten him last Christmas and flurries of snow peppering his caramel hair and his easy smile reflected in the lines at the corners of his eyes.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” he said. It hadn’t always been like this. He and Remus were friends, they’d always been friends, they always would be. The kind of friends that aren’t uncomfortable being too close. The kind of friends that slow dance with each other to sappy 80s love songs in that friend’s living room. The kind of friends that thought about what it would feel like to kiss each other, deeply and profoundly and often. That last one, maybe not.

It was that last one that sent a stuttering, whining realization into Sirius’ head that he hadn’t been able to get rid of. It was there whenever Remus was there. It was there even when Remus wasn’t there. It was there when Remus hugged him, when Remus fell asleep next to him, when Remus playfully let his hands slide down Sirius’ hips while they were dancing.

He was in love with Remus Lupin. All of primary school together, all of secondary school together, some university, and only just _then_ was Sirius figuring this out. It was such a new development, he’d only pieced it together within the last few months.

Truthfully, the first time the thought bloomed was at Harry’s birthday party. Uncle Padfoot had gotten little Harry a tiny leather jacket, just like his own, and Uncle Moony had said with a wink, “Hard to beat the astronomical good looks of Sirius Orion, but we may have a contender.” And Sirius’ heart had beat a bit funny for a good while afterward. It took him much more time, a little more touching, and a lot less distance between them to give it a name.

“Try me,” James said, looking at Sirius over the tops of his square frames.

With a deep breath, Sirius let it all spill out. “I’m in love with Remus.” At first, James had laughed – and who could blame him? Sirius had loudly and frequently professed his love for Remus many times before. Only recently had he discovered it had been true all along.

“No, _really_ , Padfoot,” James said, wiping the tears of laughter from his eyes. Another deep breath, this one quite a bit more unsettled than the last, gave Sirius’ reply, sent with the broken, solemn expression on Sirius’ usual cheerful face. “Oh my _God_. You’re sure?”

Sirius barely nodded. “I’m sure,” he said, mumbled through the clenching of his jaw, through the tightening of his chest. “Because it hurts, Prongs.” He put his hand over his heart, remembering every time Remus’ fingers had grazed over it. His fingers formed a fist into the fabric of his shirt. “It hurts more than anything. All it takes is a look in my direction and I feel like I might crumble apart.” Like the way Remus looked at him when he came into James’ living room that very afternoon, like it was a surprise, meant just for Sirius.

“But love, Sirius?” James said, a bit of disbelief in his tone. “How can you be sure? You’ve never been in love before.” His voice sounded a little bit like he hoped it wasn’t true, and Sirius wished he could agree. But he’d never been more sure of anything in all his life.

Sirius let out a slow breath, letting his head fall, but drawing his eyes back up to meet James’ concerned gaze. “Weren’t you sure with Lily? Didn’t you know the _moment_ it happened? The _moment_ you realized you were in love with her?” James’ concern faltered slightly.

“Yeah,” he said, turning a little wistfully as he thought about his wife. “Yeah, I knew.”

“Were you this miserable?” Sirius said with a bitter laugh that left a sour taste in his mouth and a grinding stone tumbling through his insides.

“You know I was,” James said, reaching out to give Sirius’ shoulder a light squeeze. “But this is … it’s a little different, Pads.” And Sirius knew what he meant. Lily knew the whole time that James was in love with her – he’d told her as much. Not to mention, they hadn’t exactly been friends first. There was no ambiguity. “Do you think there’s a chance that –” James continued, but Sirius cut him off before he could even say it out loud.

“No,” Sirius replied immediately. There was absolutely no chance that Remus shared these feelings. He was too carefree with Sirius to be in love with him. “That much I’m sure of.”

“How can you be sure?” James argued, looking for a shred of hope to relieve Sirius of this agony. “All the time that the two of you –” Again, Sirius stopped him.

“Friends, James,” Sirius said with a breath. “All the time that the two of us spend together, we spend together as friends. Nothing more. Trust me, I’ve been paying critical attention.” A hostile laugh slipped out from under his breath as he thought of all the times that he had looked for it – some sign that Remus might think of him as something more.

He’d looked for it first at Harry’s birthday party, after that startling moment of realization. He had scrutinized every word Remus had said, every touch Remus had placed onto his skin, every glance Remus had shot in his direction. He hadn’t found an answer.

He had kept looking for it, in the way Remus pulled him onto his chest when they were lying together on James’ couch watching an old film, in the way Remus held him low on the hips as they danced to Phil Collins in Remus’ living room. He had looked for it in the way Remus’ warm, close breath had puffed out against the back of Sirius’ neck as he braided Sirius’ hair.

“Come on,” James continued to argue, “All the touching? All the flirting?” James smirked just then, knowing. “There has to be something there.” A scoff pushed through Sirius’ throat.

What James didn’t know is that Sirius had instigated it all. Over the last few months, he’d been testing Remus, testing the borders of their friendship, discovering all the boundaries that Remus would let him cross. The answer was that Remus would let him cross _all_ of them.

If Sirius threaded his fingers through Remus’ hair as they hugged, Remus leaned into it. If Sirius nestled deep between Remus’ legs when they had fallen asleep on James’ couch that night, Remus widened the space to let him. If Sirius let his grip travel up the hem of Remus’ shirt while they were dancing to hold him by his bare hip, Remus pulled him closer.

But did he _notice_? Did he realize that Sirius was _actually_ flirting with him? Was he complacent with the way Sirius touched him, or was he complicit in it? Did he enjoy Sirius’ boldness, or did he tolerate it? In either situation, he never said anything.

“It’s only flirting on my end,” Sirius said, teeth tightened. “Anything I get in response is only that. A response. And a joke.” He swallowed hard as he remembered it all.

“I wouldn’t discredit it, Sirius,” James replied, with a click of his tongue. “You flirt with me, too, and you don’t see me flirting back. Not like … that.” As Sirius thought about it, maybe that was true. If Sirius slipped his hand up James’ shirt (something that had definitely happened in their long history together), James always laughed and pushed him away.

Remus didn’t. Remus never flinched or corrected him or seemed annoyed with him. If anything, Remus dove into it with him. But the question was the same – if Remus thought this was playful, harmless, platonic flirting, he wouldn’t feel any _need_ to correct it.

Besides, Remus didn’t look at him the way Sirius would expect him to, if he had it just as bad as Sirius did. Because Sirius could feel the look on his face when Remus was near. He could feel the way it lit up when Remus entered a room or the smile that stretched every muscle in his cheeks when Remus looked over at him. Remus didn’t ever mirror those expressions.

“It’s pretend,” Sirius exhaled heavily. “I can tell.”

“Damn,” James huffed in reply, pausing for a moment to examine the dark circles under Sirius’ eyes from sleepless nights and the day-old stubble on Sirius’ face that he hadn’t shaved because Remus mentioned he liked the way it felt when they embraced. “It’s that bad, huh?”

With a trembling breath, Sirius buried his face into his hands. Almost instantly, he felt James wrap his arms around him and pull him into his chest. Sirius began to cry.

“I will never love anyone like this, James,” he whispered, his voice thick with despair and deep with the cavernous emptiness in his chest. James held him tighter.

“Sirius Black, in love?” A familiarly soft voice drenched in honey and buried deep in warmth shook Sirius violently from the comfort of James’ arms. He turned away quickly, dragging the backs of his hands over his tear-streaked face. James stepped between them.

“Remus,” he said, voice shaky. “We didn’t know you and Lily were back.”

“Apparently,” Remus said, and the rhythm of his voice was altered – almost angry. How much of their conversation had he heard? Was he _upset_ that Sirius was in love with him?

“Remus, I was going to tell you,” Sirius said quickly, turning around and nearly taking Remus by the hands, but he stopped himself. “I just … I didn’t know how.”

The expression on Remus’ face was rather unreadable. “So, who is she?”

“Who is _she_?” James repeated, putting far too much emphasis on that pronoun. But Sirius was quick to realize that Remus had missed the most important aspect of this conversation. He had no idea who Sirius was in love with. Sirius thought quickly.

“My next-door neighbor,” he said quickly, shooting James a stern glance that he tried to make read ‘ _do-not-fuck-this-up’_. “Marlene McKinnon.” While James kept his mouth shut, he didn’t do the same with his expression, and a painful grimace crossed over his face.

“Tell me about her,” Remus said. It almost sounded like a challenge. Like he saw through Sirius’ lie. Like he knew, deep down, that Sirius couldn’t possibly be in love with anyone else.

“I … can’t.” Sirius dragged out his words, trying to come up with a valid excuse. “Maybe another time. I’m supposed to cook dinner for her tonight, so I’d better be going. Lots to do.”

An unexpected laugh pulled loud from Remus’ lungs. “Sirius Black, you couldn’t cook dinner if your life depended on it.” He took Sirius by the arm. “You’ll need my help.”

“No, Remus, I …” Sirius tried to argue as Remus practically dragged him from the kitchen, despite Sirius’ silent, expressional pleas for James to save him from this impossible situation. “I’m meant to do it myself. Alone. You can’t –” Remus wasn’t listening. They were to the front door.

“She’ll never know,” Remus said as he waved to James, while James tried to give Sirius a reassuring expression. “I’m not taking no for an answer.” Once out the door, Sirius may have let himself soften into Remus’ grip, let himself lean a bit deeper into Remus’ hold. Maybe it was hopeful imagination, but Remus’ fingers seemed to move closer to Sirius’ waist.

Sirius knew what would happen when they reached his house. Truthfully, it didn’t even feel like his house – it was still his parents’ house, they just weren’t living in it anymore (or living at all anymore). Which was why, when they reached the house, Sirius knew Remus would figure out his ruse, because the house was a disaster. The only parts that looked semi-lived-in were his bedroom and the kitchen. He only came back to sleep (and sometimes eat). Only if he had to. 

By the time they got to the house, it had begun to snow again. Just like when Remus had arrived at James and Lily’s earlier than day, his golden curls captured the white flurries until he looked like a portrait of a saint, a halo of white around his gilded head.

When they walked through the threshold of Sirius’ house, Remus let out a breath, but it wasn’t in anger. It was in shock and concern – Sirius could hear it as he spoke his name.

“Sirius,” Remus said, his hands automatically reaching out to touch Sirius, his thumb absently stroking the back of Sirius’ shoulder blade. “I didn’t know.” There was guilt in his voice.

“Don’t think about it, Moony,” Sirius said, just relieved that Remus hadn’t uncovered his lie as quickly as he thought he would. “I practically live with James and Lily anyway.”

Then Remus said something Sirius never expected. “Why don’t you come live with me?”

It took a moment of fantasizing for Sirius to jerk himself back down to reality. “That would put Pete in quite a bind, wouldn’t it?” he tried to laugh, turning his back to Remus so there would be no visible evidence of the blush he could feel pouring through his cheeks.

“Pete has all but moved out,” Remus said, leaving Sirius to wonder how sincere this offer actually was. “He practically lives at his girlfriend’s house. My flat feels rather empty lately.” As Sirius began to turn, to try to decipher the look on Remus’ face, Remus also started to pull on Sirius’ arm toward the same goal, and Sirius lost his balance. He tumbled face-first into Remus’ chest, reaching out to steady himself with the closest thing, which happened to be Remus’ waist.

 _Shit._ He had been trying so hard to behave, to stop being brazenly flirtatious with Remus, and especially careful not to touch him. But with his hands on the waist of Remus’ jumper, soft and warm, held by his steady frame but with pliable skin underneath, Sirius went blank.

As he looked up at Remus, all he could think about was his warmth. The warmth of his skin underneath Sirius’ hands, the warmth of his breath as it slipped down from Remus’ lips, the warmth of his chest, pressed close to Sirius’ face. He didn’t think about how long he spent staring into Remus’ amber eyes, or how readily his hungry gaze focused on the subtle movement of Remus’ lips, or how long he wondered what he would be able to taste on Remus’ tongue.

“Moony,” he breathed out deeply, forgetting his place for a moment as he blinked heavily at the love of his life, leaning up to get closer. Until it suddenly all came roaring back at once – where he was, who he was with, who they were together, who they _weren’t_ together.

Flushed, he pulled away, overcompensating with laughter as he said, “You can’t tug on me like that, I’m a lightweight. Though, I can’t blame you for wanting to put your hands on me.”

Remus smiled, but there was something in his eyes. Something that he surely couldn’t name, and something he thought maybe Remus wouldn’t be able to either. Still, he replied in kind, as always. “Next time, I’ll be sure to put my hands on you a little more tenderly.”

Grateful that Remus hadn’t seen through him, as obvious as he had just been about his feelings, Sirius walked off to busy himself with building a fire to warm the ancient, frigid house. Though, he couldn’t shake the feeling that Remus was watching him rather closely. As he tossed a couple bundles of firewood into the hearth, he heard Remus take a sharp breath.

“Oh, **shit** ,” he said after, his voice was filled with dread, terror almost. Immediately, Sirius looked up, but Remus was standing in the same position, looking at Sirius with wide eyes.

“What happened, Moony?” Sirius asked, furrowing his eyebrows and glancing around where Remus stood, to try and figure out what the hell was going on.

Remus seemed to startle at Sirius. “Nothing, it’s fine, I’m fine.” His reply made it seem like he was very much not fine. “I’m just going to clean a bit. Over here.” Sirius didn’t press it any further. After all, he hadn’t been able to figure out Remus’ motives for _anything_ , recently. This one would likely be no different. Sirius busied himself with building a fire in the fireplace.

Occasionally, out of the corner of his eye, as he leaned over into the ash, he thought he saw Remus watching him through the reflection in the mirror, but he hushed the thought in his mind. Sirius looked at Remus in secret so often, he _knew_ that Remus never did the same.

As he lit a match under the pile of wood and paper, he leaned in, blowing carefully on the tiny spark to get it to catch, to get it to burst into a brilliant flame. It was a little like this strange relationship with Remus – nurturing something very good, while hoping for something greater.

He threw on a little more paper, whispering encouragement to the flicker of light, and he smiled when it finally bloomed, the jagged edges of the wood starting to ember.

“Look, Moony!” he said excitedly, but as he looked over, Remus had his eyes closed, his head placed against the clean streak he had drawn into the mirror. Eventually, he turned.

“Well done, Pads,” he said, smiling, but his smile seemed forced. Without thinking about it, Sirius raced over and pressed himself to Remus’ back, his lips very close to Remus’ ear.

“Come warm up with me,” he breathed out, a little more richly than he intended, and a shiver jolted down Remus’ back at the warmth of Sirius’ breath against his neck. As Sirius pulled him to the hearth, Remus mumbled something under his breath, but it went unheard.

Maybe it was the cold draft in the house. Maybe it was his fingers already wrapped around Remus’ arm. Maybe it was the way the gold of Remus’ eyes and the gold of his hair was amplified by the orange glow of the fire. Whatever it was, Sirius didn’t think twice about snuggling close to Remus. He didn’t worry about giving his secret away. He wanted Remus close.

“Let’s order take-away and make whiskey-spiked cocoa,” Sirius hummed, pressing deep into Remus’ shoulder. “I’ve still got some of those cinnamon marshmallows you like.”

“What about Marlene?” Remus asked. And Sirius … forgot.

“Who?” he asked until the sickening realization settled into his gut. “Oh,” he continued, the despondence in his voice apparent as he tried to cover it up. “I should cancel.”

“You can’t cancel now, Pads,” Remus said, and he pulled away from Sirius, stepping backward toward the kitchen. “Come on, we’d better get started on dinner.”

As Remus wandered toward the kitchen, Sirius let his head roll back in frustration, barely keeping the groan from the back of his throat. He was also so, _so_ close to getting through to him.

“Remus, I wasn’t even going to cook,” Sirius sighed, leaning against the open refrigerator as Remus piled things into the curve of his arm. “I was going to order it and say I cooked it.”

As always, Remus laughed at Sirius’ terrible joke. “Of course you were. But I’m here now,” he said, and Sirius softened at the way he said it. “And I say we’re going to cook.”

“You’re lucky that Lily sent me home with bags full of groceries last night,” Sirius said as he followed Remus to the counter, letting himself get close, letting his chin rest on top of Remus’ shoulder, and wondering if he could get away with sliding his arms around Remus’ waist.

Unknowingly, Remus didn’t let him entertain the thought further. “Are you going to help me, or just watch?” he asked, but Sirius could hear the smile in his voice.

A playful, but honestly disgusted huff escaped from Sirius’ lips as he stood next to Remus, a little closer than he would stand next to anyone else. As he stole the carrots from Remus’ fingers, he made sure to let their skin contact as much as they were allowed.

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” Sirius said, trying desperately to keep up the flirting. It was the only thing he had to assure him that maybe these feelings weren’t unanswered.

“I’d better make myself scarce before Marlene arrives and hears you talking to me like that,” Remus said, clicking his tongue in admonition. A twitch went into Sirius’ lip.

“Maybe you should stay,” he offered, ignoring the fake date for the moment.

“And watch you snogging someone el-” Remus stopped short, but Sirius looked up immediately, absolutely positive that Remus had intended to say ‘ _someone **else**_.’ Someone that wasn’t _him_. But sooner than Sirius grew hopeful, he recanted, “Some girl? No, thank you.”

“I really doubt that’s going to happen,” Sirius said, suddenly watching Remus very closely and wondering if he had heard that verbal blunder only in his expectant head.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Sirius,” Remus argued rather quickly. “Just look at you.” His voice went a little wispy, a little stunted. “Any woman would be daft to turn you down.”

That twitch in Sirius’ lip turned into a full snarl as his hand stilled underneath him, the breath he’d been collecting in his lungs spilling out in one irritated huff. “See, that’s just it. Moony. That’s not what I … I don’t want …” He rationalized this thought process, realizing the enormous mistake he was about to make and gave it up. “Never mind.” His attention went back to the carrot underneath his quivering knife, fingers shaking nervously from the adrenaline of the confession he so nearly just made to his best friend. He tried taking a deep breath.

Something happened that had almost never happened between he and Remus. They both got quiet. Uncomfortably quiet with things that went unsaid. It had become more common for Sirius in the last few months, but he was sure Remus had never noticed it.

He knew how wrong that thought was when Remus began to sing.

Because Remus _never_ sang. When Sirius and James belted out loud, drunken ballads in the pub down the street, Remus would only smile and shake his head. When they danced in the living room, and Sirius sang softly into Remus’ ear, Remus hadn’t sung back.

Sirius sang in the shower, he sang walking down the street to James and Lily’s, he sang Harry to sleep. He hummed to himself on the tube, he whistled absently as he laced up his boots, he answered Remus’ phone calls with a song in his voice. Remus never once joined in.

And now, he was _singing_. To Sirius, and to Sirius alone. The sound was as sweet as honey, like the color of Remus’ eyes, as rich as chocolate, like the taste of Remus’ breath when he got closer than Sirius expected him to, and as deep as the ocean, like the look on Remus’ face when he looked up to find that Sirius had already been looking at him in the first place.

“When I’m feeling blue,” he sang, quiet and delicate. “All I have to do …” he trailed off, and Sirius knew he was leaving space for Sirius to fill with his voice. Sirius smiled.

“Is take a look at you,” Sirius sang in reply, letting himself glance up at Remus to see that honey in his eyes, to taste that richness of his breath, to see that depth in the expression on his face. “Then I’m not so blue.” A smile played at the curve of his lips.

“When you’re close to me,” Remus continued, timing the catch of his words to the work of his hands, the knife sliding in a rhythm that matched the tone of his voice. It took no time for Sirius to meet his cadence, no time for Sirius’ high, bright voice to find that perfect harmony to Remus’ power and warmth, a perfect accord built from two people meant to be together.

Together, they sang, sacred and sweet. “I can feel your heartbeat, I can hear you breathing near my ear.” Their wrists moved in time to the melody, though the movement of Sirius’ knife was fulfilling no purpose. He had long since devoted all attention to the sound of Remus’ voice, the way his lips moved with the words, the way he closed his eyes contentedly.

He paused, to let Remus carry the song without him, to hear the echo of Remus’ voice in the hollows of his chest and watch it travel up his throat. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

Sirius picked up where Remus left off. “Baby, you and me,” but his voice was faltering, his knife dropped unnoticed to the cutting board beneath it. There was nothing but the words in his mouth, the words he had been longing to say to his best friend and longing to hear in return.

Without prompting, Remus turned to Sirius, laying his knife to the side and gripping tightly onto the edge of the counter. He finished the lyric in word, the melody robbed from empty voice as his eyes scattered over Sirius’ face. “Got a groovy kind of love.”

This. It was _this_ that Sirius had been waiting for. This moment to _do something_ , to make Remus see the thing he had been overlooking all this time. He wanted to move, he wanted to pull Remus’ face to his, to show him the truth, to kiss him until his mouth was sore. 

Instead, he let himself get lost in the golden crash of Remus’ eyes, like sand pouring from a broken hourglass. He lost himself in the soft pull of Remus’ bottom lip into his teeth as Remus _studied_ him. He lost himself in the anxious puff of Remus’ breath against his throat.

Before he could convince himself to break out of this trance, Remus lifted his hand to Sirius’ face, his fingers gliding gently along the line of Sirius’ jaw. In his surprise, he didn’t stifle his expression like he should’ve, like he usually did. His eyes widened rapidly.

Suddenly, Remus’ eyes widened, too. There was panic incited inside his dilated pupils as he retracted his touch like Sirius’ skin was on fire. In the next instant, it all washed away.

“See, this is all it would take with Marlene,” Remus said, swallowing hard, followed by the sharp snap of breath in his throat. “She’ll be yours by the end of the night if you sing to her.”

An unexpected, devastated breath fell from Sirius’ open mouth. “Right,” he said, feeling very much on the verge of tears. “Moony, I’ll be … I’ll be right back,” he said, recognizing that he couldn’t stave off the swelling breakdown. “Keep … doing what you’re doing.”

“I’ve got it,” Remus replied, very pointedly keeping his eyes off of Sirius, and Sirius was glad he did, because if he had looked at him, just then, Sirius would’ve lost all composure. In fact, he barely held it together before he made it to his bedroom, just at the top of the stairs.

Once behind closed doors, he let himself cry. Let himself grieve the loss of whatever moment he had just shared with Remus, just to have it all ripped away. He couldn’t keep this up. He couldn’t keep up the charade of this phony date with Marlene, couldn’t keep pretending that he wasn’t in love with Remus. Something had to give – Sirius’ restraint would likely be what did.

It took him several minutes to gather himself together again, several minutes to stop coming to a crushing, excruciating realization that he and Remus would never be together. Not as anything more than friends. It took him several minutes to stop his world from collapsing.

When he returned downstairs, with Remus still in the kitchen, Sirius knew he couldn’t tell him the truth. He couldn’t tell him that he hadn’t been talking about his next-door neighbor, Marlene. He couldn’t tell him that he had actually been telling James how in love he was with Remus. He couldn’t tell him. He couldn’t tell him. He couldn’t tell him.

Instead, he did the only thing he could do, when he was filled with feelings he was unable to express. He hadn’t had to resort to it in years – with James and Remus, and even Pete and Lily, he could say anything and everything that was on his mind. He didn’t need to hide who he was any longer. He hadn’t been in front of a piano since before his parents died.

Still, he sat down, staring blankly at the keys underneath his fingers. They moved instinctively, picking up a melody long forgotten by his memory, but retained by the familiarity of the movements. Immediately, Remus was glancing around the corner, a curious sort of smile blurring out the confusion and strain from earlier. Sirius smiled back.

“Come sit by me, Moony,” he said, and Remus didn’t hesitate. If there was tension between them, after that moment in the kitchen, Remus was eager to forget it.

As Remus curled his lanky frame underneath the keys, he spoke. “The chicken is roasting, so you have plenty of time to play me something.”

“Any requests?” Sirius asked, playing absently, no regard to melody.

“Let’s avoid _Groovy Kind of Love_ ,” Remus said with a sad laugh, but it almost made it sound like _he_ had been the one at fault. Like _he_ had done something he shouldn’t have. Either way, Sirius decided to leave it, not wanting to open that wound again.

“Agreed.” His fingers shifted keys, playing what was in his heart, though he should’ve known that there was no way this could end any other way but in fire and ruin. Still, he sang. “It started off so well. They said we made a perfect pair.” He leaned heavily over the keys, his hair falling down over his fingers as they moved in a rhythm that only they knew.

“I clothed myself in your glory and your love. How I loved you,” he sang, trying to keep the sadness from his voice, but failing so beautifully. “How I cried.”

He resisted the urge to look over at Remus, but out of the corner of his eye, he could see Remus lower his head, tightly curling one fist into another, holding them both tightly.

“The years of care and loyalty were nothing but a sham, it seems,” he hummed softly and deeply. He could feel his voice cracking through the strain, but he continued. “The years belie, we lived a lie. I love you ‘til I die.” If only he had the strength to sing this to Remus directly, instead of hiding behind the premise of loving someone else. If only he had strength at all.

Just as he took in a breath to call out a most heartbreaking _save me, save me, **save me**_ into the rafters of his ancient home, Remus took him by the hands, shattering the melody.

“Sirius, I can’t do this anymore,” he said hurriedly, pushing his fingers through Sirius’ until they were irrevocably knotted together. It was the most direct Remus’ touch had ever been.

“What do you mean?” Sirius asked, eyes wide again, the warmth of Remus’ hands on his own diffusing up his arms, into his chest, into his heart, into his head.

“I mean I can’t keep pretending like …” he stopped, the hold of his fingers, desperate and urgent, spreading up Sirius’ forearms. “What I mean is that I … that I’m ….” A sudden, loud knock broke them both from their thoughts, and the expression on Remus’ face was obvious.

“That must be her,” he said, through gritted teeth as he moved away from Sirius.

But Sirius wasn’t ready to let go. He held on, though Remus wrenched away in order to pull open the front door. “No, Moony, wait, it’s not what you …”

Marlene McKinnon was standing on the step outside.

“… think?” Sirius finished, shoulders slouching as their eyes met. Her eyebrows furrowed.

“You must be Marlene,” Remus said, his voice sounding less inviting that it usually did when he greeted strangers. “Come in, I’m Remus. Friend of Sirius.” He still shook her hand.

“Sirius, what –” Marlene began to ask, eyes wide with confusion as Sirius scrambled to her side, desperate to keep her from ruining the lie he had been constructing all day.

“Marlene, you’re a little early,” he spoke through teeth clenched tightly as he tried to convey with his expression for her to shut up for a minute. Luckily, Remus retreated into the kitchen before Sirius had to, you know, _kiss_ her or anything.

“This is _Remus_?” Marlene said, letting her mouth fall open as she watched Remus walk away. “No wonder you’re such a disaster, Sirius. He’s bloody _adorable_. He shook my hand!”

“Shut the fuck up, Marlene, I swear to every god you don’t worship,” Sirius hissed as he pulled her into the house and slammed the door behind her. “Remus heard me say I was in love with someone and he thinks it’s you, so play the fuck along.”

“Oh, right!” she said loudly before whispering back to Sirius. “Are we on a fake date right now?” Sirius nodded vigorously. “I thought you said dinner at six! Silly me!” she giggled. She fucking _giggled_. With a silent groan, Sirius rolled his head back, dragging his hands down his face.

Just then, Remus popped his head around the corner of the kitchen wall. “We’ve got a bit of a wait on the chicken.” His voice sounded strained, like he was trying very hard to make it sound pleasant. It still didn’t. “Can I get you a drink, Marlene?”

“A glass of white wine would be lovely, thank you,” Marlene said, and Sirius could not stop the expression that crossed over his features as she spoke, batting her eyelashes in Sirius’ direction. Again, rather luckily, Remus disappeared into the kitchen again, not seeing much.

“White wine?” Sirius spoke through clenched teeth. “Who the fuck _are_ you?”

“I don’t know, I panicked!” she laughed. “I thought maybe you’d like to be with a sophisticated girl who chooses a white wine rather than a whiskey sour.”

Sirius pinched the bridge of his nose. “How _does_ Dorcas put up with you? Honestly.”

“I make it worthwhile,” Marlene said with an overt wink, which Sirius ignored.

“You were not supposed to actually show up, you know. This is a right disaster. Can you make up some excuse to leave?” Sirius begged, feeling the strain behind his eyes.

“Of course not,” Marlene scoffed with a disgusted look in Sirius’ direction. “How many more nights do we have to suffer through, ‘ _Oh, Remus, my beautiful, wonderful, **perfect** Remus, won’t you ever love me?’ _before you bloody _tell_ him?” she urged, shaking Sirius by the shoulder.

“You’re sure as shit not going to tell him for me!” Sirius said, struggling to keep his voice at a whisper. Marlene gave an overdramatic show of rolling her eyes in Sirius’ direction.

“Don’t be daft,” she said with a flip of her hair. “No, I’m going to flirt with you so spectacularly that he has no choice but to realize that he doesn’t enjoy seeing you with anyone else, and _then_ I’m going to make up some excuse to leave. But not before.”

“I’m going to ask Dorcas to murder you in your sleep,” Sirius threatened as he glanced back toward the kitchen. A soft, airy laugh slipped through Marlene’s lips.

“Unless I’ve suddenly gotten very bad at some things I’m rather good at, I think she will decline that request,” she said, an arrogant smirk evident in her voice. As Remus returned with her wine in hand, she pumped up the pretense in her voice. “Thank you, darling.”

When Sirius didn’t turn, because he couldn’t chance looking at either Marlene or Remus, for fear of giving himself away, Remus gently nudged his shoulder. “Sirius.”

Once he turned, he felt his features soften. Remus held out a glass of Sirius’ favorite whiskey, two whiskey stones in the bottom of the tumbler. “You remembered the whiskey stones,” he said softly, looking up at Remus and feeling his expression turn to mush.

“Of course,” Remus said, and for a moment, Sirius wondered if his expression was mirrored in Remus’ face. But it changed quickly. “I’m the one who gave them to you.” His features darkened as he lowered his head, starting a retreat back into the kitchen.

Sirius couldn’t let him leave. He caught him by the sleeve. “Remus, stay.” At first, Remus didn’t look back at him. His head remained low, his eyes drawn to the side, to where Sirius was gripping desperately onto his sleeve. “Moons,” Sirius said in a whisper. “Please.”

Remus still didn’t look back, the honey in his eyes darkened and oily. “I don’t want to intrude on an otherwise romantic evening,” he said, trying again to pull away, but Sirius wasn’t about to let go. His grip moved from the sleeve of Remus’ jumper to circle his wrist, chancing to move his thumb down into Remus’ palm. The draw of Remus’ eyes went erratic.

“I don’t know how to be romantic without you,” Sirius said with a little laugh. It brought the light back to Remus’ eyes. “Marlene will tell you, I’m shit with romance.” Just at the mention of Marlene’s name, that returned light was extinguished with haste. He pulled away.

For some ungodly reason, Marlene took this as a sign to start her nefarious plot and moved down the sofa in one, swift push, putting her practically into Sirius’ lap.

“Not when you know what you want, isn’t that right, love?” she said, pressing her lips right up to Sirius’ ear, sending an uncomfortable shudder deep into his bones.

“What I _want_ ,” Sirius emphasized, trying to pry her off, “is to save the affection for when Remus isn’t present.” If there _were_ feelings there, Remus wasn’t necessarily the jealous type. If it was obvious that Sirius was unavailable, Remus wouldn’t fight for him. This plan was shit.

“Don’t be shy,” Marlene purred, twisting Sirius’ long hair around her finger. “You don’t mind, do you, _Moons_?” God, she said it with such purpose. Because she knew. She fucking knew that _nobody_ was allowed to call Remus that but him. Even _Remus_ didn’t allow it.

Once, back when they first started using these nicknames (Sirius couldn’t even remember how they came up with them, that was a drunken memory that was rather faded), Lily had made the mistake of copying this shortened version when she referred to Remus. All five of them had gone rather still, each making a different face of disgust. They all agreed it _only_ worked for Sirius.

Visibly, Remus bristled at the name. “I’ll just go check on the chicken again.” Desperate to show an apology for this, Sirius jumped from the couch and pushed Remus into his place.

“Let me,” he said, only just realizing that he had no idea what Marlene would say to Remus once Sirius was out of the room. “Marlene would love to hear embarrassing stories about me, I’m sure,” he said, eyeing Marlene quite deliberately as he walked to the kitchen.

Once there, he took a deep breath. This was all going to so, so horribly wrong. He opened the oven and took a glance, not even knowing what he was supposed to be looking for. As usual, Remus was right – he couldn’t cook for shit. That chicken could be raw for all the fuck he knew.

From the sitting room, he could hear Marlene and Remus making small talk, but it was too muffled to make out what they were talking about. He desperately hoped Marlene wasn’t spilling any of his secrets – secrets that he had been sharing with her since she and Dorcas moved in next door several months ago. No, if anything, Marlene would belligerently refuse to disclose this secret, even if Sirius himself had asked her to spill it.

When he walked back into the room, Marlene had a strange, woeful look on her normally bright expression. Her hand was patting Remus’ knee rather patronizingly. As Sirius came closer, she looked at him with a longing in her eyes that made Sirius want to change the subject.

“I leave for two seconds and you sweep her out from under me, Moony,” Sirius joked, trying to communicate with Marlene solely through expression, which they had gotten rather good at over the last few months. A subtle nod with widening eyes gave Sirius more questions than answer, so Marlene nodded again, rather insistently – toward Remus.

Sirius followed her direction as he continued, “Though, I can’t blame you, Marlene. I mean, look at him.” No longer was his gaze on Marlene, no longer were his thoughts on her direction. Remus was the only thing he could see. “The laugh lines in the corner of his eyes, the rebellious curls in his wild hair.” A blush had begun to creep up Remus’ throat, as it sometimes did when Sirius got carried away with compliments, but he couldn’t stop himself. “That one freckle on the bottom of his lip that makes it look pierced.” Sirius absently licked his lips.

“Sirius, stop,” Remus said quietly, cocking his head to the side, which he often did when he was trying to cover up a splash of blushing that Sirius had caused.

“Sounds like Remus is the one you should’ve made a date with,” Marlene said, leaning back into the sofa, sounding rather proud of herself. If Sirius had been so devastatingly focused on Remus, he would’ve laughed. He might’ve high fived her.

But there was nothing in the world, but Remus Lupin’s face. The way he nibbled on the side of his bottom lip (the side with the freckle) when more than one person was looking at him at one time. The way his chest rose much too full and sunk much too deep with much too much breath. The way he thumbed at his earlobe, which always flushed red first, before his cheeks.

“He’s exaggerating,” Remus mumbled, his hand moving to the back of his neck.

“No, I think Marlene agrees with me.” Sirius glanced in her direction for only a moment and she winked her approval at this approach as Sirius knelt in front of Remus. “Don’t you want to just run your fingers through his hair?” His gaze moved chaotically from Remus’ lips, to his eyes, to his freckled cheeks, to his hair. “Don’t you just want to trace up and down his spine with your arms around his waist?” Carefully, Sirius pushed in closer to Remus, letting his hand find Remus’ calf. “Don’t you want to know the feeling of his lips against yours?”

Sucking in a sharp breath at Sirius’ unexpected touch, Remus stood. Immediately, Sirius leaned back to give him the space to move. “Sirius, can I talk to you in the kitchen?”

Before Sirius could answer, Remus stomped in that direction, leaving Sirius to look toward Marlene in a panic. She met it with a reassuring gaze, holding her palms out in front of her in some effort to get Sirius to take a breath. “Go,” she whispered, waving him to the kitchen.

When Sirius followed, Remus didn’t wait to speak. “What the hell was _that_?” At first, Sirius was taken aback. Remus was shouting. Remus never shouted. Especially at Sirius. It sent a terror into Sirius’ heart that he had never experienced. He’d fucked up. _Oh, God._

“I was …” he started to tell the truth, but he backpedaled. “I guess I took it too far.”

“You _guess_?” No, Remus hadn’t been shouting before – _this_ was shouting. “It’s one thing to treat me like this when it’s just the two of us, or just the five of us, but in front of _her_? Are you serious?” In a desperate attempt to lighten the situation, Sirius took the bait.

“I’m always Sirius.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Remus growled. That tone of voice seeded an impiety into Sirius’ blood that he wasn’t used to, but he’d never heard Remus _talk_ to him like this before now.

“So, it’s alright when it’s just us, but it’s different when other people are around?” Sirius argued back, stepping up to get into Remus’ face, getting intoxicated on this vitriol bleeding from Remus’ pores. “Are you embarrassed by me?” An instant flush splashed through Remus’ cheeks.

“Don’t turn this around on me, you know what I mean.” Still, he didn’t move from where he was nearly shoving his chest against Sirius’ frame. He didn’t want to lose this fight.

“I _don’t_ know what you mean,” Sirius barked. “I _never_ know what you mean. Because _you’re_ the one who indulges me, Remus. You’re the one who lets me fall asleep between your legs.” That blush on Remus’ cheeks spread like a pox – it slipped into the collar of Remus’ shirt.

“I _let_ you?” Remus shouted, not backing down. “How is that worse than your _doing_ it?”

“Well, it really depends on your intention, doesn’t it, Remus?” Sirius yelled back, throwing his hands out to his sides, using Remus’ name again for impact. “And I have no fucking idea what that is.” God, he had never made a truer statement in all his life.

Because what was Remus’ intention for dancing with Sirius to a love song? What was Remus’ intention for snuggling Sirius to his chest on a couch that was barely big enough for one person? What was Remus’ intention for caressing Sirius’ face, as he had done that afternoon?

“ _My_ intention?” The sound from Remus’ throat was practically a laugh. “What about _your_ intention? When you pretend to fantasize about kissing me in front of the girl you’re supposed to be on a date with?” The laugh had all but sunken out of his voice, out of his chest entirely.

“I don’t have to pretend, Moony,” Sirius finally laughed, in exasperation, not fully realizing what had just been said, and Remus not done arguing enough to listen.

“You made me stand there and watch her paw all over you after you pretended to be heartbroken.” Remus’ voice cracked. “And sang to me about loving someone you couldn’t have.”

“I am in love with someone I can never have,” Sirius growled, fists clenched.

“Stop lying to me!” Remus yelled. “She is right there. It’s obvious she wants you!”

“I’m not in love with her, you idiot!” Sirius finally screamed, pushing hard against Remus’ chest with open palms. “I’m in love with you!” Realization quickly swept over him as Remus went still, his eyes widening and moving frantically across Sirius’ face. Sirius’ eyes began to widen, too, as he pulled his hands back to his chest and as far away from Remus as possible. Oh, shit.

Remus opened his mouth.

**_ Remus  _ **

“How long?” he asked first, not knowing where he was going with this line of questioning, not knowing what he was doing with his hands, not sure how his heart was still beating.

A short laugh snuffed out from Sirius’ nostrils, his expression unchanged. “I want to say all this time, but I only figured it out on Harry’s birthday.” As with everything else, Remus followed Sirius’ laugh with one of his own, a smirk twitching the corner of his lips.

Before either of them could say more, Marlene called out from the living room. “Now that you told him, can I go? My wife is going to murder me for going on a date with a _bloke_.”

Another laugh from Sirius’ lips, this time accompanied by a smile. “Fuck off, Marlene!” he called, the smile evident in his voice. The sound of the door shutting softly followed soon after.

Remus’ gaze swept over the floor. “She knew the whole time. Of course.”

“She’s the only one I could tell for a long time,” Sirius admitted, his voice careful.

“And James finally forced you to tell him today …” Remus said, trailing off.

“Which you mostly heard. And I then tried to cover up,” Sirius said, waving his hand, as if in frustration, but the ghost of a smile was still passing in and out of his expression.

“Do you want to know when I figured it out?” Remus asked, looking up to meet Sirius’ gaze directly for the first time since his confession was blurted out so abruptly.

A furrow moved into Sirius’ brow. “That I was in love with you?”

Remus shook his head. “No. That _I_ was in love with _you_.”

Sirius opened his mouth. Remus stepped in.

“Only just. _Today_ ,” Remus said behind a whisper, feeling his pulse throbbing in his neck, the breath stolen from his lungs. “When I heard you tell James you were in love, when we sang together in the kitchen, when you broke my heart at the piano.” Another step, another step, another step. He could feel the uneven pacing of Sirius’ breath as it moved violently through his lips. “When I suddenly realized that I was about to _lose_ you.”

With a quick, sharp inhale, Remus leaned in, barely unsettling Sirius’ lips with his own, and Sirius responded in kind, cautious and calm. At first. The longer Remus kissed him, the more Sirius pulled him in, his mouth open wide to taste Remus as deeply as he could.

When Remus pulled away, a soft, candid sigh pulled from Sirius’ lips with them. The look in Sirius’ eyes was a degree short of terror – as if waiting for Remus to come to his senses.

“Padfoot,” Remus whispered heavily, resting his forehead against Sirius’ and letting his hand slip up Sirius’ throat, his fingers straddling his ears. At the sound of Remus’ voice in that tone, at the touch of Remus’ hand with intent, Sirius let his eyes roll back in revelry.

“ _Moony_ ,” Sirius exhaled, instinctively tilting his head to let his lips meet Remus’ again.

“There’s something I need to ask you,” Remus mumbled into Sirius’ lips.

“Anything, Moony, anything,” Sirius said, his voice delving down into a moan that sent a flush all the way down into Remus’ hips. His hands moved down Sirius’ hips, gripping insistently.

Remus pulled away. He opened his mouth.

**_ Sirius _ **

His eyes had gone immediately to the floor. _Shit_. He hadn’t mean to say it, he hadn’t meant to tell him. Not then. Not _now_. Not like _this_. Not when they had been fighting.

“How long?” was the first thing Remus said to him. He didn’t look up.

An irritated huff pushed from Sirius’ lungs. “I want to say all this time, but I only figured it out on Harry’s birthday.” He was surprised to hear a laugh from Remus’ lips, so he let himself glance up to see what looked like a smirk on Remus’ face. Like he remembered the thing he had said to Sirius that had started this whole mess. Was he _amused_ by all of this? Was that _good_?

Before either of them could say more, Marlene called out from the living room. “Now that you told him, can I go? My wife is going to murder me for going on a date with a _bloke_.”

A genuine laugh bubbled up unwillingly from Sirius’ lips. God, what would he have _done_ without her? To thank her, he replied, “Fuck off, Marlene!” She didn’t reply, but he could practically see the middle finger she raised in the air, grinning as she shut the front door.

“She knew the whole time,” Remus said, eyes to the floor. “Of course.”

“She’s the only one I could tell for a long time,” Sirius admitted, trying to keep the misery out of his tone as he recalled Marlene rubbing his back from one side, Dorcas from the other, as he sobbed on the musty sofa in the living room over love that would never be reciprocated.

“And James finally forced you to tell him today …” Remus’ voice trailed.

“Which you mostly heard, and I then tried to cover up,” Sirius said, wondering if this whole conversation was going to feel this clinical. So far, Remus hadn’t expressed a single feeling about _any_ of it – not anger, not disgust, certainly not a sign that he shared the sentiment.

“Do you want to know when _I_ figured it out?” Remus asked, finally looking up to meet Sirius’ gaze, and it was unlike any expression that Sirius had ever seen on his face.

But he was struck by what Remus said. When _he_ figured it out? “That I was in love with you?” Sirius asked. He hadn’t figured it out. Sirius had to tell him.

“No,” Remus corrected, taking a step in. “That _I_ was in love with _you_.”

Sirius opened his mouth.

Well, it was more like falling open. In absolute shock. So much shock that he went absolutely silent, eyes wide and spine stiff, breath falling from his cavernous mouth.

“Only just. _Today_ ,” Remus said, continuing to step closer, despite the fact that Sirius couldn’t convince his body to make a single movement. “When I heard you tell James _you_ were in love.” He took another step. “When we sang together in the kitchen, and when you broke my heart at the piano.” Finally, he stood just in front of Sirius, the bridge of his nose ghosting underneath Sirius’ jaw. “When I suddenly realized that I was about to lose you.”

Before Sirius could act or speak or breathe, Remus leaned up and gently pressed his lips to Sirius’ mouth. His body responded before his brain, which had gone totally blank, spending every available thought to memorizing the softness of his lips and the taste within them.

Just when Sirius began to settle in, to really kiss him back, to finally show Remus just how desperate he had grown for him over the years, Remus pulled away. The first thought in Sirius’ mind was panic, pure and blinding, sure that Remus was changing his mind and his heart.

Instead, Remus breathed his name. “Padfoot,” he said, pushing his forehead to Sirius’ and slipping his hand up his throat to angle Sirius’ face down toward him a little more.

“ _Moony_ ,” Sirius responded readily, driving his lips back into Remus’ again, unsatiated.

“There’s something I need to ask you,” Remus spoke between kisses.

“Anything, Moony, anything.” At the sound of the tension in Sirius’ voice, Remus seemed to move his arms a little further around Sirius’ waist, seemed to grip him a little tighter.

Remus moved back, taking a full breath. “Do you want to have dinner with me?” he asked, a coy smile in the corner of his mouth. Sirius let out a sharp cackle.

Over dinner, they listened to Queen. From across the table, Sirius sang to Remus again, knowing this time he wasn’t breaking his heart, grateful that Remus was no longer breaking his.

 _Save me, save me, save me,_ he sang to the love of his life, as Remus watched on, adoration evident in his golden expression. Together, they sang to one another, through kisses.

_I love you ‘til I die._

**Author's Note:**

> Shout at me in the comments or on tumblr [@mollymarymarie](https://mollymarymarie.tumblr.com/) ❤️


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